


Graduation

by RoyaltyOverReality



Category: Shoujo Kakumei Utena | Revolutionary Girl Utena
Genre: M/M, Magical Memory Loss, Possibly the fluffiest thing I've ever written, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-18 03:37:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21921169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoyaltyOverReality/pseuds/RoyaltyOverReality
Summary: Saionji and Touga have finally graduated from Ohtori Academy, but both of them are hesitant to leave. Perhaps its not their memories keeping them tethered to the school, but the things that they've forgotten. A story about growing up, moving on, and holding onto the past. Written for the Empty Movement 2019 Secret Santa Gift Exchange.
Relationships: Kiryuu Touga/Saionji Kyouichi
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	Graduation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NakaionAquette (Nakaion)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nakaion/gifts).



After what felt like a lifetime at Ohtori Academy, Saionji Kyouchi had finally graduated. He hadn’t worried about passing his classes. In fact, he’d considered himself a dedicated student, especially during his final year, when he had nothing to distract him from his studies. Graduation surprised him because he felt that every school year seemed to last an eternity. 

Eternity...

He didn’t know why that word kept echoing through his mind as he packed up his things. The process of clearing out his dorm room felt unwantedly similar to the time he had gotten suspended. Or had he been expelled? He didn’t know. He couldn’t even recall what he had been punished for in the first place. 

He thought that it had something to do with Touga, Anthy, and another girl. He couldn’t remember who that girl was, though. She must not have been anyone important. Probably just another one of Touga’s conquests. She’d gotten expelled herself, later that same year. It must have been her fault the four of them had gotten into that situation. 

Not long after the other girl’s expulsion, the same thing happened to Anthy. Saionji had difficulty believing that was really what had happened, though. She’d been  _ something  _ to him, but he didn’t know what. He thought she might have been his girlfriend, but he had no memory of ever going on a date with her. Despite that, he knew Anthy well enough to know that she was too accommodating to ever get into real trouble. Still, what other explanation could there have been for her sudden disappearance? She couldn’t have just walked out.

Once Saionji finally packed up his things, he closed up his suitcase. Instead of picking it up and walking out the door, he sat in the middle of his empty bed. He knew that it shouldn’t have been hard to leave a place that had left him with only confusion and distorted memories. But Ohtori Academy had mattered to him. He wasn’t naive. He knew that it had never been home, but there had to be a reason that he felt reluctant to leave the school. He couldn’t help but resent himself for not knowing what it was. 

He was about to lash out at the empty room and punch the wall, when he heard a knock at the door.

“Who is it?” He called. He didn’t bother turning around, much less going to open the door.

“It’s time to go, Saionji. We’ve graduated.”

It was Touga Kiryuu. He hadn’t bothered to say his name. Touga wouldn’t have needed to do that for anyone, but Saionji believed he’d skipped the formalities because they were friends.

Well, he wanted to believe that. He wasn’t sure what the two of them were anymore. Maybe they were still friends, but they were also something more than that. Although, Touga’s concept of “more” often felt a lot like Saionji’s concept of “less.”

“What? That’s all? Just ‘let’s go?’” Saionji asked, yanking the door open. 

Touga fell into the doorframe the second he had enough space to. He leaned up against the wooden trim with his back arched like a cat, just as dramatic as always. While Saionji was annoyed by his friend’s bombasity, Saionji felt grateful he could rely on Touga to be consistent when everything else around him was changing. 

“I was expecting some sort of speech,” Saionji said. “Haven’t we smashed the world’s shell by now?”

“You remember that?” Touga stumbled backwards out of the door frame and into a regular standing position. 

“Of course I do. You only gave that speech at every student council meeting,” Saionji said. 

He picked up his suitcase and stepped out into the hallways as well. 

“Juri and Miki didn’t,” Touga said. “Nanami thought she did, but she had all the words wrong. She wanted to smash the world’s cage instead. Silly, don’t you think?”

“Not really. A cage isn’t all that different than an egg shell.” Saionji looked down the hallway, as if a more exciting topic of conversation would come walking by. 

“Why do you think they all forgot?” Touga asked. 

“I don’t know, we all forgot a lot of things,” Saionji said. “I doubt you remember half the girls you dated at this school.”

“I wouldn’t have dated as many girls as I did if I was the sort of guy who did that,” Touga said. “Women appreciate thoughtfulness. You’d probably do well to keep that in mind, now that we’re moving on with our lives.”

As if on cue, a group of younger girls walked past, waving at Touga. 

“Congratulations on graduating, Mr. President!” One of them called. “We’ll miss you!”

“Thanks, Keiko!” Touga said. 

As the girls walked away, giggling and tittering amongst themselves, Saionji realized they were Nanami’s little minions. Since when had Touga gotten on a first name basis with any of them? 

“That was awfully convenient for you,” Saionji said. 

“Yes, I’m going to miss that,” Touga said. 

“I’m sure there will be plenty of other girls like that in the future,” Saionji said. 

“I was talking about the convenience,” Touga said with a grin. “Coincidental things like that always seem to be happening at this school.”

“I’d never noticed that before,” Saionji said.

“Me neither,” Touga said. “At least, not until now I didn’t.”

“When did you even get close with her?” Saionji asked, as the two friends walked off down the hallway in the opposite direction as the girls. 

“Who? Keiko? I wouldn’t call us close, but I did get to know her better right around the time Nanami found out that I was adopted,” Touga said. “And maybe another time as well. I don’t remember.”

“So you’ve been forgetting things too?” Saionji asked. 

“Less than most,” Touga said, “But I can’t remember everything.” 

He looked out into the distance. Saionji couldn’t tell if he was reminiscing about the past or feeling troubled by something. Touga could be expressive when he wanted. He usually saved that for when he was trying to get something out of someone. But his default state was cold and difficult to read. Even Saionji, who’d known Touga for most of his life, sometimes had difficulties knowing what was going on in his heart. 

“What are you thinking about?” Saionji asked, stepping in front of Touga. 

If he hadn’t, Saionji was almost worried that Touga would have followed his memories off down one of the school’s winding corridors. Saionji would have undoubtedly followed him, and then they both would have spent who knows how much longer at Ohtori Academy. Saionji wasn’t sure whether or not he wanted the school year to end. But he did know that he had no desire to be an aimless adult, lurking around the school and clinging version of the past that had died long ago, if it had ever truly existed at all.

“Do you remember Tenjou Utena?” Touga whispered the name, as though saying it would set off some sort of alarm. 

“No, who on earth is that?” Saionji asked. 

“Strange, I thought you would remember,” Touga said. 

“Why? Was there something special about her?” Saionji asked.

“I think so,” Touga shook his head. “Yes. There was. There had to be.”

Saionji cast a skeptical glance at his friend. Touga must have noticed, because he ran a hand through his long hair and fell back into the role of the carefree, debonair playboy.

“I just assumed that you would have known her since she was so close with Himemiya.”

“Anthy?” Saionji asked. He was sure that she had never had any friends. 

“Yes, her. Didn’t you two date for a while?” Touga asked. 

“I think that’s what it was,” Saionji said. 

“Do you remember the exchange diary? You would always get so worked up if she didn’t write back,” Touga said. 

“I moved on from things like that long ago,” Saionji said. 

“Oh really? I don’t remember that,” Touga teased him. 

“It’s not funny! Don’t you think that our memories are important! What if one day we wake up and we’ve forgotten each other?” Saionji stopped walking. 

Touga took a few extra steps thinking Saionji would follow along, but once he realized Saionji wasn’t moving, he stopped as well. 

“Any reason for the sudden outburst?” Touga asked. “I didn’t know the exchange diary was that important to you.”

“It wasn’t,” Saionji said.

He wasn’t sure whether that was a lie or not. The diary had mattered to him, but he couldn’t remember anything either he or Anthy had written in it. If they’d never written anything of significance in it, then it wasn’t important. But that didn’t change the fact that the mere mention of the diary made old feelings of betrayal and loss resurface.

They were at the gates to the campus now. Saionji knew that once they passed through the ornate marble archway, emblazoned with a golden rose crest, they’d never return again. At least, he knew that he wouldn’t. 

“Then what was it that was important to you?” Touga asked. 

He started to walk backwards, out through the gates. His arms were outstretched with his palms facing outwards. Saionji still stood still. The moment felt eerily familiar. 

“I don’t know,” he said. “But if you tell me to come with you to the world that I seek, I’m turning around and going back to elementary school.”

“Oh no,” Touga said. “This world isn’t going to be anything like that at all.”

“Then I’m ready,” Saionji said.

He desperately hoped that those words were true, but he had no way of knowing until he’d left the school. 

“Wait,” Touga stopped walking and put out his hand. 

Saionji wasn’t prepared for that, he ended up stumbling into Touga’s outstretched arm. 

“What’s wrong with you? There’s no need to make such a big show out of leaving this school. We’ve already graduated, it’s not like we can stick around,” Saionji said. 

“I know,” Touga replied. “But you never answered my question.”

“Why do you care? It never mattered to you what was important to me before now. I don’t see any reason that should change now,” Saionji asked. 

Touga looked at Saionji in a way that he had never looked down on him before, with pity in his eyes. Saionji had dealt with smugness, disdain, and condescension from Touga. But never pity. And he wasn’t about to start accepting it now. 

He was an adult now. Specifically, a man. And no matter what laid outside beyond those gates, the Kiryuu Tougas of the world weren’t going to be able to take that away from him. 

“So, it was the same for you?” Touga asked.

“What do you mean?” Saionji said.

“There was nothing that was ever important to you while you were here,” Touga said. “At least, not anything important enough to remember.”

“No, that’s not true.” Saionji said.

“Then what was it?” Touga asked.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know, or you don’t remember?”

“Does it matter?” Saionji threw his hands in the air in frustration. “You and I both went to this school for years. And now it’s over. We might still be close after this, but there’s no guarantee. We’re both going to grow up, get jobs, get married, buy a house, maybe even have kids. Years from now, none of this will matter. We’ll probably forget all of it. But I don’t care. Right now, you’re my only friend. And I know that I’m your only friend as well. Maybe that will change. But that doesn’t matter to me. Right now, this is important to me.  _ You  _ are important to me.”

Touga said nothing. For a moment, he stood beneath the stars, staring at Saionji with a blank expression on his face. For the first time in his life, Saionji had surpassed Touga. Now, it was Saionji wanted to move on, while Touga was still trying to hang on to something he probably should have let go of long ago.

And Saionji couldn’t stand it. 

“Quit looking at me that way,” Saionji said. “It’s not like you.”

At first, Saionji thought Touga was going to respond, but then he pulled him in for a kiss. It wasn’t the first time they’d done that, but Touga had never kissed him with so much tenderness before. There had always been a stable, but authoritative, confidence in the way that Touga had approached Saionji in the past. Saionji had always enjoyed it, but Touga had done his best to make it feel like that enjoyment was the result of a special tactic he had employed, not any sort of genuine connection between the two of them. 

But this was different. There was a gentleness to Touga’s movements that matched Saionji’s. For the first time in Saionji’s life, Touga wasn’t his rival. He was his equal. Saionji knew that if he wanted to, he could have taken control of the situation. He was tempted to kiss back harder, or to drag his nails down Touga’s back, to take charge of the situation.

But he didn’t. They both stayed on the same level of energy. Neither one tried to dominate the other, as if the secret to perfect equilibrium had been spelled out in the constellations above their heads.

Eventually, the two of them stepped back from each other. For a moment, their eyes were locked, just as they had been countless times before, during kendo matches. But for once, there was no pretense of competition. No forced hostility. They were able to look each other in the eyes, to gaze upon each other’s vulnerabilities with an uncritical eye. Their weaknesses were something to be acknowledged, but not exploited. 

For Saionji, it was almost like seeing something that he had thrown out long ago on display in a museum. Had he really given up on kindness and intimacy in every situation, just because he hadn’t been able to hold onto it with Touga? It must have been more than that. One man couldn’t have turned him against the whole world. It must have been something more than that. But, of course, Saionji didn’t know what that had been.

“You and I might have been able to make something out of ourselves in a place like this,” Touga said. “But out there-”

“I’m going,” Saionji said, pushing Touga out of the way. 

Touga looked surprised by Saionji’s hostility. Saionji did not look over his shoulder to see how fast Touga would get over it.

“Funny, I had always assumed we’d walk out of this place together,” Touga said. 

“Then catch up!” Saionji challenged. 

As he passed through the gates to the school, Saionji didn’t look back to see if Touga was following him. He hoped that Touga was right behind him, but even if he wasn’t, Saionji wasn’t afraid. If he was as important to Touga as Touga was to him, he knew that his friend would come and find him with time. Saionji didn’t care if it took Touga longer to leave Ohtori Academy than it had taken him. Saionji had the whole world outside of Ohtori to discover. And the end of that world didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight. 


End file.
